


Regarding The Incident In Which Raymond Ran Away To Mexico

by secretsofluftnarp



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: B99 Summer 2019 Fic Exchange, Gen, M/M, but it's still fluff, cheddar is a naughty dog, domestic stress, episode s06e01: The Honeymoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsofluftnarp/pseuds/secretsofluftnarp
Summary: "Can you clarify," Kevin said into his cellphone, using his other arm to hail a cab, "how much wedding cake did Cheddar eat?"The Honeymoon episode, from Kevin's perspective.For the B99 2019 Summer FIc Exchange. From the prompt "Are you sure you're okay?" from tumblr user amesantiagos.





	Regarding The Incident In Which Raymond Ran Away To Mexico

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amesantiagos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amesantiagos/gifts).



"Can you clarify," Kevin said into his cellphone, using his other arm to hail a cab, "how much wedding cake did Cheddar eat?"  
  
"Uh," Gina said on the other end of the line. "Like, half of it. Full frosting interior. Some of it's chocolate too. Ooh, that's bad, right?"  
  
Kevin did not attempt to explain the calculation of ounces of chocolate per pound of dog that would constitute a veterinary emergency, despite knowing the math by heart. He was too flummoxed by the situation itself: the bomb threat called in to Jake and Amy's wedding (while Raymond assured him this was no reason to worry and would be fine, Raymond often had a different definition of 'fine'), the sudden addition of Cheddar as ring-bearer, and Cheddar's uncharacteristic misbehavior.

"I do not understand how this happened," he told Gina. He gave the cabbie the precinct's street address.  
  
"Oh, you know us. Big wedding coming up, gotta be wacky times, hijinks ensue!"  
  
Kevin sighed. "Hijinks...often seem to ensue."

"I should probably tell you," Gina said, a note of reluctance in her voice. "The Captain has the news re: whether he made commissioner, but he hasn't looked at it yet."  
  
Kevin rubbed his face with his entire hand. The prospect of Raymond becoming police commissioner had loomed large in their lives. Raymond often stayed awake at night, unable to stop talking about it. Kevin did not enjoy that he dreaded either result: increased tension, responsibility, and publicity, or a deep, dark disappointment.  
  
Which was why, when Kevin arrived at the precinct, he asked about Raymond first, and Cheddar second.  
  
"Gina," Kevin said seriously. "Do you know?"  
  
"I know it really seems like I know everything, or I have a way to manipulate it out of somebody," Gina said. "Because I do. But I wasn't really motivated to find out the dish on who made commish, so no. I don't."   
  
"Can I beseech you to keep an eye on Raymond? Make sure he calls me in case of trouble. No matter what the news is, he may...have a strong reaction."  
  
"I mean, I could," Gina said. "What's in it for me?"

Kevin said the name of a famous culture blogger, whom he had known as a writer, before blogs had ever existed.  
  
"Oh damn," Gina said. "You two are tight?"  
  
"Quite."  
  
"Mmkay," Gina said, and shook on it. 

Kevin looked at Cheddar. Cheddar looked very sorry, but not sorry enough.  
  
"Do you have something here that I can use in case we need an impromptu doggie barf bag?"

"Check the maintenance closet," Gina said. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"Absolutely not," Kevin said, and pointed cake-stuffed Cheddar toward the elevator. 

  


Kevin sat at the emergency veterinary office, certain he was missing the wedding, or whatever last-minute save had taken the wedding's place. He had congratulated Raymond earlier on being the officiant, and told him warmly that he was sure he'd be very efficient. Raymond had appreciated this greatly. Kevin was sorry to be missing that part. 

"Cheddar," Kevin said, too seriously for the question he was about to ask, "was your behavior a cry for help? Bark once for yes."  
  
Cheddar did not bark.  
  
"Did someone train you to eat cake in preparation for a heist?"  
  
Cheddar continued not-barking.  
  
"Were you so overwhelmed by a novel situation that you went and did something that you knew, on its face, was a terrible idea?"  
  
Cheddar yipped. Kevin stared at him.  
  
His phone chimed, with a nearly-incomprehensible text message.  
  
_last min save, wedding @ precinct, totes heartwarming, officiant mad efficient, going to Shaw's_  
  
Kevin had missed the ceremony. He should head to the bar, he thought, because it was a wedding, but Cheddar still required supervision.  
  
The vet wrote out some recommendations. Kevin's phone chimed again.   
_  
oh damn we such a found family that he's gonna read the email_

Kevin frowned. He would have liked to be there. Kevin rolled Cheddar under one arm and hailed another cab.  
  
_oh damn he got it_ [police hat emoji] [three dollar signs] [trophy emoji]  
  
He had given the cabbie his home address, because Cheddar needed to go home. He now regretted this.  
  
_OH WAIT NO_

"I don't understand," Kevin said aloud, to a quiet home. He ordered Cheddar into the kitchen, where the floor could be easily mopped in case of canine emesis.   
  
_he read it wrong_  
  
"He read it wrong?" Kevin repeated, disbelieving.  
  
A worry bubbled to the surface of Kevin's mind, where it had been floating for the last several weeks. Under stress, Raymond could be highly unpredictable. Kevin had been attempting to predict what he would do in the face of grave disappointment. His top worry was that Raymond would fall off the proverbial wagon.

(The wagon was not proverbial, Kevin thought, correcting himself. The wagon was an _idiom_ . He should know better.)   
  
Kevin had been careful, for years, to avoid potentially triggering Raymond's gambling addiction. He reliably changed the tv channel before the lottery numbers came on; he mercilessly shot down any dinner party guests who even suggested playing cards; he avoided mentioning horses at all, if he could help it. A few months ago, Raymond had spiraled after working a case involving a high-stakes poker game. He had agreed to get help; after some discussion, Kevin had taken full responsibility for the household finances. Kevin was fairly sure this substantially reduced the risk of relapse, but he worried. He attempted to imagine what else Raymond could do, in his wildly disappointed state:.  
  
_Kevin, this is your husband, Raymond Holt. I have purchased a new bowler hat. This one is pink._  
  
_Kevin, I am disgraced. I will lie on the floor until I am forgotten by this world entirely, or until my buttocks fall asleep._  
_  
Kevin. I have purchased a horse. His name is Rogelio._

Kevin had never felt particularly imaginative. 

His phone buzzed. Kevin picked up the call.  
  
"Kevin, this is your husband, Raymond Holt. I was not selected for the commissioner position. I am going to the airport."  
  
Kevin startled. "I am sorry to hear about the commissioner position. What is your destination?"  
  
"The airport."  
  
"What are you going to do," Kevin said, articulating carefully, "once you arrive at the airport?"

Silence from Raymond, as if he hadn’t given it much thought.   
  
"Are you boarding an airplane," he continued through gritted teeth. "And if so, _where is that plane going_." 

_If it's Vegas,_ Kevin thought, _I swear I will come down there and collect you myself. You may try to fight me off with your big, sexy, powerful body but I have determination and I am_ no slouch _and I swear --_

"Posadita Bonita," Raymond said. "A small high-end resort in Mexico. I have a discount code."  
  
"You're...you're relaxing," Kevin said, his voice stunned and breathy. He felt as though he could cry from relief. He put a hand to his mouth, to hide the smile that was suddenly threatening to break his face. "Raymond. You secretly adore the warm weather."  
  
"I suppose," Raymond said flatly. "I could use some contrast to the darkness of my soul, which is clearly that of a _loser_ ."  
  
Ah. There it was. But still: no hats, no horses, no high-stakes poker games. Margaritas on the beach really did seem a reasonable response for someone who had just suffered a life-ruining disappointment. It felt, Kevin thought, almost...normal. 

Kevin's phone chimed again. He received the purchase notification for the airline ticket, and approved it.  
  
Ticket, singular.  
  
"Raymond?" Kevin said. "That ticket was one-way."  
  
"My return schedule is indeterminate," Raymond said, in a way that would normally have been concerning, but which Kevin accepted in this moment. Perhaps, Kevin thought, Raymond really _was_ learning to relax. 

When Kevin returned home the following day, he set his briefcase in the study, as per usual. He took Cheddar for a walk, as usual. He did not check in on whether Raymond would be working late that night, as Raymond was not home at all.  
  
He looked at Raymond's purchasing updates. A series of novelty t-shirts. A number of frozen beverages. A _hot stone massage_ .  
  
Kevin was proud of him.  
  
"I suppose we can relax, ourselves," Kevin said to Cheddar. After dinner, he invited Cheddar up on the bed with him, where he was typically not allowed. Kevin scrolled through the documentaries that he and Raymond had saved to watch together (The World in a Grain: A History of Sand), and decided to look instead for something...decadent.  
  
Ah, Great British Baking Show. The...celebrity edition.  
  
Kevin got a rosé, a gift that had been hiding in the fridge that neither of them would touch. A spritzer. With carbonation, no less. He truly was having a wild time.

"Oh dear," Kevin said, watching a contestant struggle boldly with something approximating a pie crust. "That bake has no structural integrity."  
  
"Raymond had structural integrity," Kevin said, gesturing at Cheddar. Kevin, who had a strong grasp of metaphor, thought about crumbling desserts and fragile egos. "And I -- we -- were as supportive as we could be, weren't we? Keeping things in order at home to deal with stress elsewhere."  
  
He regarded Cheddar with mild suspicion. "Is that why you ate the cake? Because you'd felt overworked during the heist, and had had enough?" 

Cheddar rolled over. He took that as a no.  
  
"Perhaps I am not as skilled at sniffing out clues as either of you."  
  
Cheddar put a paw on his thigh, in a gesture so human-like that Kevin wondered if he was dreaming.  
  
"You've always been very supportive," Kevin said, because no one else was around to hear him. He thought for a moment. "Raymond has been supportive as well. The last conference I co-organized narrowly avoided disaster, and Raymond stuck beside me through that. As well as publication deadlines for my latest book, and last year's committee elections."  
  
"Which is not to say it's the same thing," Kevin said. "But it is comparable. I am glad that he is taking some time to de-stress." 

Fifteen hundred miles away, Raymond decided to quit the NYPD. 

Raymond hadn't forgotten about Kevin. He had figured Kevin wouldn't have wanted to be around him. He assumed that no one did.  
  
After all, who was he now? Nothing. He had only a lifetime of working within the system that didn't want him. What was there to care about?  
  
Perhaps, deep down, he avoided Kevin because Kevin would have supported his decision to quit. _Whatever you feel is best for you, dear_ , he could hear Kevin say. Raymond was feeling temporarily euphoric about the idea, but it was the high of a man deep-dark drunk on disappointment. 

Better to be here, in Mexico, wearing novelty t-shirts in increasingly poor taste.  
  
Peralta and Santiago had not accepted Raymond's impulse to resign. They had tied him to a bed to change his mind.

Raymond was not sure how this was going to help. He was slightly impressed with Santiago's ability to physically restrain him (she had done most of the work).  
  
Jake had attempted a heartfelt speech, which Raymond had rejected, calling it selfish on Jake's part.  
  
Santiago had rejected that, emphatically.  
  
"How dare you call Jake selfish!" Amy accused. "He just wasted his entire honeymoon trying to take care of you while you wallowed in your misery like a little baby."  
  
"That seems harsh," Raymond said.  
  
"Oh, does it? I don't give a hoot!"  
  
Which, it had turned out, was brilliant. 

Not giving a hoot meant Raymond could take risks, like challenging the new commissioner on his policies. Not giving a hoot meant he could still make a difference.  
  
Raymond decided to go home. 

  


  
"I have decided to challenge the commissioner on his policies," Raymond announced, upon returning home to Kevin. He had not changed his novelty t-shirt (DTF: Down To Fiesta).  
  
"That sounds terrifying," Kevin said. "And admirable. I am proud of your work, as you should be as well."  
  
"Santiago and Peralta were helpful in this decision," Raymond said. Later, he would reference that Jake and Amy had tied him to a bed, and Kevin would be, temporarily concerned, before obtaining the context.   
  
"Who was drinking rosé?" Raymond said.  
  
"Cheddar," Kevin burped. "Is your shirt --"  
  
"A pun," Raymond said. "It also means --"  
  
"Desiring Thorough Fornication," Kevin said. "I know what it means." 

  
Raymond waited.  
  
Kevin waited.  
  
"The shirt is absurd," Kevin said. "But you're terribly sexy when filled with righteous purpose." He offered Raymond the bottle. "Rosé?"  
  
Raymond agreed, and kicked Cheddar out of bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried for Jake/Amy, I really did, but it turns out I know these two the best. >.>
> 
> update: yoooo I didn't expect this kind of response! Amazing! I have a bunch more Holt/Kevin fics on this account and a bunch of headcanon posts at luftnarp-writes-things.tumblr.com


End file.
